Why?
by Raven Moonshadow
Summary: Not all bad guys are bad. Everyone has reasons for fighting. Behind the scenes at Zaibach, Dilandau, Folken, and the 15 Dragonslayers encounter a stow away who questions why they fight. Zoey wasn't going to make it easy on them. If she was stuck on their ship, then she was going to passive-aggressive the hell out of them. Particular Chesta. Just 'cause she could. Evil grin.
1. Chapter 1

_This story is a little thing that stemmed off my love and hate of escaflowne. On one hand, I loved the whole premise of the story and the series because it was so interesting; it had something for everyone and I really liked how absolutely insane Dilandau was. But I hated how Hitomi fell in love with Van and then just 'poof' left just like that. Who would leave the man they fell in love with, in a wonderful mystical land with dragons and knights, to return home to earth. The movie for Escaflowne, on the other hand, I liked because some of the dragon slayers survived and Dilandau, though considerably less crazy, did not turn into a girl. So this story became a combination of both the series and the movie with an OC girl who saw things from the Zaibach side. Because, lets face it: not everyone is bad by choice. I really like looking at the behind the scenes on the 'other side' as some would call it. _

_Chapter 1 ~~~~~  
><em>

'Goon. Goon. Goon. Goon.' She thought, pin pointing each of the strangely dressed soldiers as they went about on what she could only presume was their daily routine. Being unfamiliar, though, with where she was that was about all she could guess. Staying to the shadows, she crept around the machines and through the copious amounts of steam.

There was nothing like being unsure of where she was and how she got there to keep one wary of running up to strangers dressed in armor.

She found a somewhat dark corridor to follow down, noticing that no soldiers had come from that way. Hopefully, that meant it was abandoned and she could gather her bearings.

At a crossways, she glanced down the right hall and saw a steel door with bars over the windows.

It reminded her of a history channel special she had seen on prisons. She shivered, afraid to even approach the door. The left hallway brought her sounds of someone approaching so she darted across the hall.

Barefoot, her silent feet raced down the hall, seeking some kind of darkened nook she could hide in incase the approaching someone took the hallway.

It was too late to avoid the next obstacle as she came to another cross-halls. To the left, two young men had stopped talking upon seeing her, their hands hovering over the pommels of their swords.

"Uh." Her eyes flicked side to side before they settled back on the pair. "You guys should pretend you never saw me. Or…" She frowned, finally realizing that swords was quite literal. She gestured to their belts. "Uh…you have swords." Awkward pause. "That's…not really a good sign, is it?" She gulped, her fists clenching experimentally. Her options were fight, run, or surrender and hope for the best. Looking at their frowns she made a decision.

"Uh…see ya." And she took off, going straight down. She heard both of their shouts and then the clank, clank'ing of their footsteps as they rounded the corner to follow on her heels.

'oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!' she thought, panting down the hall she darted to the right and down another corridor, hoping that it would be free of more pursuers. Ahead, a door was slightly ajar. She dove through it hoping her followers wouldn't notice berely able to keep on her feet at she crashed through the door.

Unfortunately, what lay beyond that door dropped her heart down into her toes with dread. Thirteen similarly dressed men in blue armor turned to her in rows. Apparently they had not been anticipating her by the looks on their faces.

And then she was distracted from them as she was thrust to the ground roughly.

* * *

><p>Dilandau looked with bemused annoyance as two of his soldiers burst through the door late. But rather than Miguel and Chesta, a shocked young woman skidded to a stop, dressed in strange pants, no shoes, and a really short somewhat skimpy tunic, gaping at all of them.<p>

Before she could react, Migel tackled her to the ground from behind. She cursed several times, using words he had never heard a woman utter. Something about mother fuckers and cock suckers. He grinned, watching Migel—all 6"1' of him struggle against the little cursing, dark haired female. Chesta, who had followed on Migels heels, colored a surprising shade of red at the woman's words.

They all watched the struggle for a few minutes.

Finally, as if having heard enough and growing tired of the struggle, Migel wound up and struck the woman, her head cracking against the floor with a thud. He had given up on peaceably taking her.

She yelped once and then lay still on her stomach, breathing heavily. Migel pulled both her wrists behind her back and held them there before grinning up at the rest of the Dragon Slayers.

"I apologize, Lord Dilandau, Lord Folken, for our being late. We were surprised by a stow away wandering the halls."

A shadow moved to stand next to where Dilandau was seated on the dais. "We can see that." Answered a low voice. Lord Folken stared down at the girl blinking up at everyone. Though quiet, she was still analyzing the contents of the room, probably planning her next move.

Surprisingly, she spoke.

"I'm not a stow away."

Migel thrust her face back against the floor, holding it there. "Shut up! Do not speak to Lord Folken or Lord Dilandau."

Folken raised his eyebrows. "Please Migel. I'm interested to hear how exactly she managed to arrive on our ship."

The woman snorted, the sound muffled against the floor, and then 'hmmm'ed. "So, I'm on a ship. I guess that makes sense." She murmured.

"Sir?" Chesta asked, glancing nervously between Folken and Dilandau and Migel and then to the captive. Dilandau waved a bored hand.

"Let her up. Lord Folkennnn…" Dilandau drawled, "is interested. And thus so must I." He let his hand fall to the arm of the chair and he repositioned himself so that his legs dangled over the other arm of the chair. His expression apathetic and bored.

She was hoisted up rather roughly. She glared up at 'Migel', her tackler and stuck her tongue out, rubbing her wrists. Folken gestured for her to come forward. The soldiers parted, all young men, most of them handsome enough to make her, a young hormonal 19 year old, embarrassed to walk through with all eyes on her. She strode through, her eyes darting nervously to the sides before stopping at the edge of the dias.

Folken and Dilandau now had a good look at their supposed stow away. She wasn't very tall, probably only 5'2" or so, but she was solid. Hourglass in shape she was muscled, not the wisp of a girl that Folken had originally thought her to be. Her hair was black as the armor he wore and her eyes were a grey-violet color. "Explain yourself."

She stared at him, unsure before it clicked. "Oh. Name. It's Zoey." She gave an awkward smile, the one you give when you really don't want to be in a certain situation. "And before Mr. Slap Happy," She glared over her shoulder at Migel, who had joined the ranks of the other young men, "shoved my face into the floor like he wanted me to become a pancake, I was saying that I'm not a stow away. I just kinda woke up here. I don't even know where here is or who any of you are." She waved her hands. " The only names I know are Folken and Dilandau. Oh and I guess Mr. Handsy over there's name is Migel." She glared again.

Folken absorbed the knowledge with little reaction. "You woke up here?"

Zoey faltered, searching for words. "Yea. I was wedged between a boiler and a wall when I woke up. Quite hot and uncomfortable. Lots of steam. The last thing I remember…" She trailed off in her memory. "My car rolled and I kinda lost consciousness. And then I woke up here…" again she trailed off, looking around her at all the foreign faces. She dropped her hands from where they were making a driving motion and sighed. "So, uh, what do you plan to do with me?" She hoped she was giving puppy eyes, because that was totally what she was going for right now. Zoey was feeling rather shaken looking at all the stern, armored young men-all of which she noted were equipped with sharp pointy swords.

"We could throw you in the holding cells, chained to the wall until it pleased me to let you free." Dilandau grinned. Zoey gulped.

"How about not? I can scrub floors or something." She grinned hopefully, nodding encouragingly.

Dilandau frowned. It wasn't often he was contradicted and he disliked it. Greatly. Before he should bark something angrily back at the woman, Folken stepped forward with an amused twitch of his lips.

Folken on the other hand liked Zoeys retort to the angry little lord who was twitching with annoyance in the seat. It was amusing.

"We don't often get young, attractive," she blushed, "women here on the ship. You could service all the dragon slayers here to pay for your stay aboard. Pleasurably." Then she colored for another reason. Disgruntlement.

She sputtered, looking back at all of the young men, some of which sported very surprised looks while a select few, cough cough Migel cough, grinned quite evily. "All of them!" Her voice rose a few octaves, one hand swigging out to gesture grandly at all 15 of them. She coughed. "I, uh, like my plan better. You know. The one where I scrub floors. Or…or I can cook! I make a mean grilled cheese." She nodded furiously, her eyes wide.

Upon receiving no answer she sighed. "Alright, maybe like one. But I get to pick." She snorted and crossing her arms. Peaking over her shoulder she glared at Migel. "That means your shit out of luck, Mr. Handsy. You're too rough." And she blew a raspberry at him.

Folken snorted, containing his laugh. She went from all to one. He wondered where she was from that she even considered one an option with such nonchalance. "If you do one, then it has to be this one." Folken gestured to Dilandau. Dilandau jumped to his feet, ready to retort angrily.

It was her words that silenced him.

With one raised eyebrow she stared at Dilandau. "What's wrong with this one then. You went from 15 to 1. I thought 15 was bad so this guy must have something wrong with him." She heard 15 matching sharp intakes of breath behind her. "what?" She turned staring at their horrified faces. She directed her eyes back to the '1' in question. His face had turned a surprising shade of red. "Oooh. Anger issues. I see." She understood. "I guess I should have kept my mouth shut, huh?"

Folken though very amused was now slightly concerned for her health. A slight smile turned the corners of his lips. "Indeed. That would have been wise." He was probably more surprise that Dilandau hadn't exploded yet.

Oh there he went.

"You bitch! There is nothing wrong with me. I'll teach you to respect…" Dilandau sputtered.

She cut him off, "…ma authorita! Oh shit…" She clapped a hand over her mouth, wincing. Zoey couldn't seem to remember that she wasn't sitting at some cafeteria table with her friends quoting movies and shows at opportune times of their conversation. They only response that would have been more inappropriate would have been a your mama joke. She didn't think they would find it as funny as one of her friends.

She jumped at the sound of wood cracking. Dilandau had picked up his chair and thrown it off the dais in her very direction. It was a miracle that in her distraction it hadn't managed to hit her. Now he was cursing, loudly.

Zoey took a step back. She was beginning to suspect that Mr. Handsy's rough behavior may have been a learned behavior from the fuming, silver haired 'Lord' currently stalking towards her.

"Dilandau." Folken said firmly. Dilandau stopped in front of the girl, who seemed to just now realize the extent of Dilandau's 'anger issues'. Her gray-violet eyes were round with fear and she brought her arms up in front of her chest, a defensive stance. "Dilandau. Control yourself." Folken snapped.

Fuming, but not quite ready to let it go, Dilandau pulled back his fist and back handed her soundly.

Again, with a yelp she crumpled to the ground. Somewhat satisfied, Dilandau turned his back and stormed back up onto the dias and then disappeared behind the curtain in the back with an angry flick of the wrist. "You can find me when find me when you're done with that infuriating creature." He growled before he disappeared.

Shocked, Zoey held her face. It pulsed painfully. No one had ever hit her, ever. And in a single hour she had been tackled, man handled, shoved, and back handed with such force she knew she'd be sporting a hefty bruise tomorrow. She was fairly sure that she would cry if it weren't for the shock of it all.

Folken cleared his throat. "I hope you realize how lucky you are. While I may find your attitude amusing, Dilandau does not find your odd humor quite as funny. Most people who are that disrespectful towards Dilandau suffer much worse fates than yours. " He sighed.

Stepping off the dias he extended his one good arm down, surprised that the girl hadn't begun to cry, as most females would have. Tentatively, she took his hand and struggled to her feet—-obviously stunned by Dilandaus anger. "You should learn from this to hold your tongue when around him."

Zoey nodded mutely.

"Chesta."

The blond who had chased her with Migel stepped forward and bowed. "Yes, Lord Folken?"

"Take her to the slayers quarters- one of the rooms had a spare bed in it, correct?" Chesta colored. He started to stutter something but Folken's hard stare silenced him. "Show her the utilities and then bring her back to me. We'll have to find a job for our stow-away, Lady Zoey." Folken motioned for them to be dismissed.

She stood there in a momentary shocked silence before…

"Wait, uh. You were kidding about the whole pleasurable acts to pay for my stay right?" She blurted out, suddenly feeling just a tad nervous.

Folken, who had been walking towards the curtains Dilandau had stormed through at the back of the room, paused. Looking over his shoulder he gave a slow smile. "I won't discourage you, for I'm sure they would not, but it isn't necessary. We'll find something for you to do." With that he disappeared behind the curtain.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Not necessary. That's all she wanted to know before they became 'roomies'. Feeling more confident she turned towards them, 15 pairs of eyes peered at her, most of them analyzing her, distrustful. A few were nervous. One in particular was flabbergasted; the young man named Chesta that had been ordered to show her a room.

When he looked over at her and their eyes met he blushed amusingly. "What's with you?" Zoey pressed, tilting her head curiously before wincing as her face pulsed again.

From the crowd of males one voice answered, "Chesta gets to room with the girl!"

Ah.

She gave a slow, mischievous smile. Upon seeing said smile he gulped.

With two skips she was in front of him, staring up into his wide, nervous, blue-green eyes. And then she grinned. "You're nervousness is so cute. I'll be gentle." She gave his arm a teasing pat-pat and then proceeded to give him a big hug, though she learned then how difficult it is to hug someone wearing armor without looking like an idiot.

There was an explosion of male voices- jeers, hoots, and laughs.

She detangled from the hug and linked arms with the frozen teen. "Lead the way…roomie." She drawled. He gaped like a fish, his mouth moving without words coming forth before he seemed to realize how the other guys were leering. He steeled his face and the other 14 soldiers parted like a biblical sea with huge smiles as she tugged Chesta into action.

All the armor on the ship wouldn't protect the poor boy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chesta guessed that this must be what his personal hell must be like.

Why he was getting a sneak preview was beyond his comprehension. He almost wanted to ask Lord Folken if he had done something to displease him, though he knew that couldn't be the case.

More likely, he had been chosen because he was one of the more docile slayers and Folken had merely found it amusing to saddle him with the only female they now had aboard the ship. A young, attractive, incredibly teasing female who enjoyed the way he squirmed.

Zoey, the female who occupied Chestas thoughts, was indeed finding it hilarious to make the young man blush. The boy's body was ridged, as if he was anticipating her to stab him at any moment. Or like she was a feral animal.

She snorted and watched his eyes dart nervously to her before focusing on the dimly lit hallway they turned down. With his reactions she was beginning to wonder exactly how old he was. Because he was either just shy of post pubescent or he hadn't seen a woman…ever.

Well, no time like the present to bring up awkward questions.

She smiled, "Sooooo, Chesta. Roomie. Guy. Dragon slayer, or whatever they called you guys. How old are you?" She peered up at him. He was at the very least, taller than her. Good.

He was silent but she saw the little facial movements that betrayed the little anxious thoughts he was having.

Chesta was struggling with why she would even ask. Dread was collecting in his chest as he went through possibilities of where she was going with this. Finally he stuttered an answer. "I'm 15 summers old."

He gauged her reaction through his peripherals. She blinked, astonished. Then she got this strange wide-eyed yet still devious look before finally her lips parted and she exclaimed, "You're a baby! Oh god I've been teasing you and you're barely out of diapers. Dear god, I'm a pervert!" She made a dramatic sweep of the hand that came to rest on her forehead in a gesture of angst. Her eyes, though, after a few moments peered up at him curiously. "I'm assuming summers is like years? Right? Or do you have some strange leap year system and you're actually older?"

Chesta blinked, and then furrowed his brows cutely (at least to her it was cutely) while he thought. "I'm not sure I understand. Years I think I get." He pursed his lips and for a moment, Zoey felt him relax somewhat, as if him thinking had made him forget that she was hanging on his arm. She smiled, finally getting to see the young soldier not quite as guarded. "You're strange."

She nodded solemnly, "I get that a lot."

They stared at each other, coming to a stop in the hallway. Serious face to serious face. Then she broke the mood and grinned evilly and wiggled her brows at him.

He flushed and went ramrod straight. Like a nervous race horse he bolted forward, forgetting she was still hugging his arm, and dragged her along.

He flung open a door in the hallway on the left hand side. There were four beds within, each separated by paneled cloth screens.

"Oh my Chesta! Bringing me to bed with you when we've just met, how naughty!" She exclaimed and watched him boil with embarrassment in his armor. At this point, she was waiting for him to faint.

Chesta was feeling lucky that none of the other slayers were with him if only for the fact that he was sure they would be peeing themselves with laughter right now. As it was, he was fairly certain that he would be permanently red hued. If he didn't faint.

The room was supposed to house four Dragonslayers. Because of the uneven number though, Chesta had ended up with his own private room. Though on most occasions someone would come spend the night in one of the free beds just because they all felt bad about Chestas aloneness. With maybe the exception of Migel who was apathetic because he wished he had his own room.

Each bed was Spartan, containing only bare essentials as far as bedding, a singular nightstand for a kerosene lamp, and on the far wall was a dresser with four drawers. "Uh, I have the top drawer so you can pick whichever other drawer you want." He mumbled. Zoey nodded, though she was busy inspecting the different beds.

"I'm going to pretend this is Sleepies and test all the beds. That cool with you?" She smiled mischievously before falling back into the first. She hit it with a omphf and next to no bounce. "Ouch geeze. This one is much too hard."

He had no idea what a Sleepies was. Or why she would want to try the beds. They were all the same. "All of them will be that way." He watched her pout. Before getting up and trying the next.

His.

He had just stopped blushing and now he could feel his face burn to life once again as she crawled onto his bed and flopped over onto her back. "This ones not so bad." Zoey caught a look at his face and crinkled her brows. "That's wrong with you? I didn't say anything perverted yet." She stuck her legs straight up into the air and waved them in scissor kicks. All the while she watched his face.

This had gone from bad to worse. He hadn't seen a naked woman before, except for the drawing Migel had smuggled onto the ship and showed everyone, and it had flashed before his minds eye as she wiggled comfortably into his bed. The worst part was that he didn't even think she meant to do such things to him but with her laying there in her strange clothes, for just a split second, he had imagined her naked. The legs in the air were doing nothing to help him either.

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling exactly how tight the leather cup in his armor was suddenly becoming. He tried to look anywhere but at her, all the while fidgeting. If only he could adjust himself. Maybe then he wouldn't be so uncomfortable.

Zoey watched the emotions flying across his face, now completely still. It had suddenly dawned on her that on a ship full of men, the reason Chesta had suddenly looked away red faced may be because she was unintentionally teasing him a little too much. Not that she had meant to. But she was so used to men of her like-minded-ness and attitudes, that facing some 15 year old soldier from wherever the hell 'here' was catching her off guard.

She had been having fun, but she knew now to stop.

Lowering her legs and sitting up she turned to his nightstand and the book on it. It was worn with old leather bindings. The front proclaimed it to be Gelderhan the Golden Knight in scrawling gold cursive. "What's this?" She quipped curiously. As soon as she went to open it though, Chesta yelped.

"No! Don't touch that!" He dove at the bed.

She held it away from him. Her curiosity peaked. "Why? Is it a dirty book? Am I gonna find all the pages stuck together?" She grinned evilly. She waved the leather bound book teasingly from side to side.

Red faced and suddenly angry, Chesta pinned her to the bed and glared down at her. Zoey was so shocked by his sudden manliness that she went limp, staring up at him with wide eyes.

"Give it back. It's…a treasure of mine. Personal." Chesta angrily stared down at her before realizing that she was cringing away from him, like she was expecting a blow. The bruising from Dilandau was beginning to show on her jaw and it made her expression seem suddenly very vulnerable.

Unable to bare her expression, especially considering her previous attitude, he released her shoulders. She lifted the book slowly to him, pushing it up against his chest until he took it. "I'm sorry." It was a whisper. She waited wide-eyed, as he pushed himself off the bed and put it on his nightstand.

He wouldn't look at her. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just…don't touch that."

The silence that stretched between them was so awkward it almost hurt.

"I'm guessing this is your bed?" She asked quietly, sitting up. "I'll go plant myself in one of these." She sashayed around him quietly, picking the bed in the farthest corner from his.

Chesta berated himself, glancing furtively over at her and watching her tentatively test the bed before snuggling into it, on top of the covers, her back facing him. He heard her sigh, but he could no longer see her face.

"I, uh, still have to show you were the bathrooms are. And then I'll bring you to see Lord Folken." She was slow to move but she got up and followed him to the door quietly.

The hallway ended at a blue door or a sharp right which led to a short hallway with a red door. To the blue door he gestured, "This is the toilet and the shower. Ah, I don't think they're segregated by gender since these are for Dragonslayers. Folken might know better." To the red door, "That's lord Dilandaus room. Do not ever enter his room. Ever." Chesta insisted.

Her silent nodding was almost more nerve wracking than her sexual harassment. The blond wasn't sure which he would prefer but the odds were beginning to favor her talkative self rather than this silent act. At least then he knew what was going on inside her head, because it was all spewing forth from her lips. She was so silent now that her feet hardly made a sound. Though- he peered down for a quick look- she had no shoes still, which made him frown.

She could have been plotting how to murder him in his sleep and now he would never know.

It was a relief when he brought her back to the conference chamber and led her to Folken, who was just re-entering from the curtain behind where Dilandau's chair once sat. Chesta took his place back amongst his fellow Dragonslayers. It was a few moments before he realized that they were all staring intently at him and he began to fidget.

Folken raised one finely arched brow at the now very silent girl standing before him. Dilandau's little temper tantrum had just begun to dwindle and he would be well pleased to see the bruising that was beginning to form on the now suspiciously quiet Lady Zoey's face.

He looked at Chesta, who was fidgeting in place, looking anywhere but up at the girl.

Folken cleared his throat. "Lady Zoey, did Chesta show you to your rooms?" She nodded, shocking him further. His face betrayed little. "Chesta…"

"Chesta…Dalet!" Dilandau re-emerged from the curtain with a gleeful swish. He paused upon seeing Zoey, but she only silently watched the torch on the wall, and that seemed to satisfy him. "I have a special mission for you both. You will take the Guymelefs and, using the new stealth cloaks, take a little trip to that backwater country Fanelia with me." Dilandau's grin was positively evil and he prolonged the word Fanelia by extending the vowels as if he relished the thought of whatever Fanelia was. Zoey didn't particularly care at the moment. She was having her own temper tantrum.

Though hers didn't involve hitting people, she thought sourly.

She knew she was being childish. But the gravity of her situation have become uncomfortably clear when Chesta, who by all appearances was the sweetest of the 'Dragon Slayers' (or whatever), had overpowered her easily. This wasn't rough-housing in Kurts basement, where there was little chance of actually getting hurt. These were all young men, with swords, armor, and, apparently, missions.

They were soldiers. And she was not.

She frowned then, getting angry. Because she hated being sad, she mentally rationalized. And she was going to go all passive aggressive on all their asses. She felt the first glimmer of vindictive female aggressiveness twitch her lips into a evil smirk.

_That's right! You've never seen my passive aggressive. You've probably never even seen a woman so all my woman-ninja-esque techniques will be new, cruel, and unusual. Mwahahahahah!_ Now she was gleefully plotting her vengeance. Secretly knowing that poor Chesta was going to, most likely, take the brunt of her frustrations. And that handsy Miguel. _Yessssssss. _Evil grin.

Chesta, who had stepped to the front and was listening with Dalet, prepping for their mission, had a sudden shiver of apprehension. Out of the corner his eye he spotted Lady Zoey shaking with glee, a murderous look in her eyes, and he gulped. _Oh Gods, she's definitely plotting revenge._

"Chesta!" Dilandau glowered down at him from the dais, one fist twitching as if he had just envisioned backhanding him. Chesta winced, staring up at Lord Dilandau apologetically. "Is that wisp of a female so distracting to you? A soldier of mine?" He drawled angrily, his garnet colored eyes glaring at said wisp. She suddenly blinked, as if realizing where she was.

"No." was his quiet response. Dalet was trying to keep his face clear of emotion. Worried that Dilandau would turn on him next.

Dilandau's lips curved in a cruel smirk. "Oh is that so? Are you sure? I'll throw her in a cell, manacled to the floor, if it would improve your concentration." He grinned.

Zoey gaped at the maniac. "I didn't even do anything this time!" She yelped out indignantly. Then winced at the sudden swivel of the Angry Lord's head. "God damnit I have to stop doing that." She held up her palms in surrender.

15 pairs of eyes were back to staring with wide eyes at her. _They all know to keep their mouths shut around this guy. Why can't I seem to?_ She mentally berated herself.

Lord Folken, who had been quietly watching once again, stepped between Dilandau and Zoey. "I'll be taking Lady Zoey to learn her new duties on board. Please continue to share the Intel with the Dragon Slayers on Fanelia. Your Guymelefs are being prepped by the crew as we speak." At Dilandau's disgruntled face Folken added, "She can't clean or cook for you if she's chained in a cell. She'll be useless. When you come back, Lady Zoye will have a meal prepared for you."

Dilandau seemed to be pacified somewhat, nodding thoughtfully as if he was thinking, 'Yes, she'll do woman's work.'

And Zoey, for once, wasn't about to argue. She took the opportunity and left with Lord Folken, following the swish of his epic cape thingy. Which she wanted one of. Maybe in Blue Tiger print. She grinned.

_I want to look like a wizard-rock-star_, she thought staring up at the back of his head.

Indeed.

**I know! I'm terrible for not updating. Please just leave me angry reviews about my lack of update-age. Don't throw things. That isn't nice. :P**


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